Halves of A Whole
by Kawaisa Panda
Summary: Sparrow mourns the loss of her best friend and her other half. My first fanfic. One shot.


Every since Kingsley died Sparrow's life was empty. To Sparrow's universe, Kingsley was the sun. He gave her life warmth, happiness, and a reason to keep going. Even Sparrow's vengeance was nothing compared to the life of her little furry friend.

Sparrow had tasted revenge before and it had been bitter sweet, like the rare dark chocolates from Samarkand that Reaver had tried to bribe her with during one of his little sex episodes.

The thought almost made her laugh. Not from happiness, but from the biting bitterness that tore away at her heart like the claws of a balverine.

That thought tore another chunk of her away.

Kingsley Wolfsbane, the executioner of the balverines. Her love had gained that title after saving a village from a pack of balverines almost single handedly, or in his case single fangedly.

This time she let the bitter laugh escape her. It boomed of the walls in a way that scared even her, though the fear left her instantly. Emotions tended to do that ever since Kingsley had...left.

That made another rip at her insides. Sparrow was starting to wonder how much more she had left in herself before she finally broke.

A finger caressed the Red Dragon at her hip as a sudden thought came into her head.

_No..._ She looked down at Judge's Steel. She had once heard that in Samarkand people would cut open their stomachs when they had been disgraced. _Yes, and another would cut off their head at the same time..._

_Would someone do that for me?_

The thought deeply disturbed her.

_Never. Ever. What would Hammer think? She'd go into shock. And Reaver, well never mind about _him_. He never thinks. And what about Garth?_

The thought of Garth made her ache. Hammer could be so loud and...quite violent, frankly. Reaver- well Reaver is just an arse that happened to be good with a gun. Garth was the in between. He could be calm and collected while deadly and cool. Besides, he knew when to shut up, something that Reaver would never do and Hammer would probably break every bone in your body for saying to her.

Even then Sparrow unsheathed Judge's Steel and watched how the light reflected of the blade's beautifully sharpened surface.

_And Kingsley too...he died a warrior and would want me to do the same. _

Even then she felt herself have a hard time putting her weapon away. Again her spine tingled with fear for herself.

She could practically hear Reaver mouthing of to her with a smirk on his face about how _"Being away from me has done horrible things to you, love. Maybe I can give you a little refresher's course, hm?"_ Sparrow could but only see the look on Reaver's face as she gave him a right hook to that pretty little mouth of his.

Or maybe Hammer would give her a look of sweet, genuine concern that most people would think impossible on such an imposing woman. _"Oh, Sparrow. You should go to the temple and pray. It relieves pain very well."_

"_Well, Hammer," _Sparrow would answer._ "God can't help everyone."_

Garth, as logical as ever, would probably do a full mental and physical exam before saying anything, which she could guess would be something along the lines of; _" *Word she doesn't know* *__Word she didn't quite catch, even if she heard it perfectly well* *Word she isn't even sure the dictionary would know *"_ Then to finish it off, as clueless as ever he would ask, _"So that's the gist of it. If you'd like I could-"_

"No thanks!" Sparrow blinked, then did something she hadn't done in a long time. She had a nice, hardy laugh that boomed of the walls. She had imagined what Garth would say so well that she had practically screamed it to all of Bloodstone. "Oh, Kingsley wasn't that-"

She stopped.

She had forgotten, in that short moment of happiness, that her best friend, her soulmate, her only, had died. Protecting her. Just as the grave said; _He died as he lived, by your side._

The air in Bloodstone Mansion was silent and it seemed like even the wind was holding it's breath.

Without even thinking Sparrow got up and walked to the door, grabbing her coat of the coat rack. As soon as she stepped out of the house she was instantly chilled to the bone. Even though she was wearing a thick, warm highwayman jacket, Sparrow was still freezing.

_Should have changed..._

She shook her head. Corset's and knee high boots were _not_ winter wear. To balance it out a little Sparrow took a long, warm scarf the color of blood from one of her jackets many pockets and wrapped it around her neck until she was nearly choking herself.

Still, it was warm at least.

Not wanting to dwell on the matter any longer Sparrow shook the already accumulating snow of her shoulders and went in the direction of her destination.

It took her all night and part of the day to reach the grave and she hadn't even rested long enough for her to even catch her breath the whole time. Taking a few seconds to register her surrounding area Sparrow allowed herself a small smile.

"Kingsley! I'm here!" Sparrow ran up to the grave and hugged the tombstone passionately, as if it were her furry companion himself. She started to stroke the ground affectionately as she talked.

"I've missed you so much, Kingsley. So...so much." Tears welled in her eyes, but Sparrow had long promised herself that she would never cry in front of Kingsley or his grave. "But, that's fine. You died as you lived, by my side, and I guess that must have made you happy...didn't it?"

She looked at the frozen soil with interest, as if it had begun talking to her.

"Yes...I hope so too. I'll do my best to live up to being the Hero of Bowerstone...but I don't think I can. Not without you anyways..." Sparrow sighed. "I get horribly lost. Some days I have to sleep on the side of the road or not at all. You know how horrible I am with maps and directions. Out of the both of us you had the most street smarts." She smiled at the grave and could imagine Kingsley smiling right back. "When I fight, the battles aren't fun. Without you I can't even get a thrill from stabbing a damn bandit in the eye."

She could remember them playing Castle in the gypsy village with Sparrow as Queen and Kingsley as Sir Kingsley, the brave warrior that saved her from the evil clutches of the imaginary dragon.

The very words that she had said every time they played spilled from her lips easily and freely. "_Oh, my dear Sir Kingsley. You are the wing's of the Sparrow and without thou at my side I shall never fly, for we are a whole only together. You are my half, and we are each other's whole."_

As the final sentence fell Sparrow opened her eyes, not realizing she had even closed them, and found tears frozen to her cheeks. "Oh! Oh dear...Kingsley, I didn't mean to cry."

In her imagination Kingsley nodded understandably. "Oh thank you, King. I'll do better." Sparrow suddenly realized what she was doing. "Oh my King...I'm sorry. You always loved to help people...and I should help them to honor your memory. Yeah...you'd like that wouldn't you, boy?"

Kingsley wagged his tail at his master in Sparrow's mind. His golden fur glowed benevolently and Sparrow could have sworn that she heard him bark happily.

_Master...thank you. _

Sparrow blinked. She could have sworn...no. Even if that voice really did sound just like Kingsley's bark...maybe. Just maybe...Sparrow's little doggy can finally rest in peace.

And his master as well._  
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